These Questions and Many Others
by Mediancat
Summary: Willow gets a call from Sheila Rosenberg: Willow was adopted. So who was her birth mother? She and Kennedy travel to Connecticut to find out.
1. If you don't mind

Set just after Chosen. Once again, I don't follow season 8 continuity. Willow and Kennedy are the property of Joss Whedon. The crossover characters were created by Susan Harris.

This is a Willow's Real Family fic.

X X X X X

"Thanks a lot, _Sheila_," Willow said as she slammed down the phone.

Kennedy, who'd just entered the room she and Willow shared, stopped abruptly. "Okay, should I come back later?"

"What? Oh, sorry, honey, not you. Just got some bad news from my 'mother.'" She did air quotes around the word mother.

Sitting down, Kennedy said, "Yeah, I got that when you tried to murder the phone. What's up?"

"Apparently," Willow said, still audibly angry, "Sheila and Ira Rosenberg have now decided that, at the age of 22, I'm old enough to understand where I came from."

"She tried to give you the sex talk?" Kennedy said, snorting. "'cause there are a few billion other people who need that advice way before you do."

Despite her irritation, Willow smiled briefly. "Back atcha, and thanks, but that's not what I meant. No. Apparently I was adopted."

"Adopted?"

"Yup. As in, Sheila and Ira Rosenberg aren't my natural parents. Knowing them, I'm half convinced they've been treating the last 22-plus years as one really long experiment. No, this was back when they just got out of college. Sheila --" and don't think Kennedy didn't notice that this was Willow's second pointed reference to her by her first name -- "Told me she found out that she couldn't have children, wanted one, and I fell into their laps. She's emailing me all the information."

"Did she tell you anything?" Kennedy asked.

"Only that I was born in New England somewhere. Apparently the birth mother set a condition for my adoption that I had to be relocated as far away as possible. Why, Sheila didn't know and didn't care. She was just happy she had someone to test her child-rearing theories on."

Kennedy knew better than to go there, but promised to herself that if she ever met Sheila or Ira Rosenberg that she would politely explain to them that they were in fact bad parents and bad people. She'd only hit them a couple of times.

Maybe three or four.

"So, right now . . .?"

"Right now," Willow said, "I'm waiting for the confirmation. And, oh, look, here it is." She looked over the records for a few moments. "The birth mother apparently left instructions that I could only be told her name after someone -- hey, isn't this the dictator?"

Kennedy looked over it. One of the few things she knew more about than Willow was world politics, though mostly from an economic standpoint, "Yup, that's him. Can't imagine two people with that name."

"Anyway, after he either died or was removed from power."

"Oh, I hope to hell he's not the father." Kennedy said.

Willow said earnestly, "Me too. Finding out my birth father was a dictator? Not in my top ten list of things to do. But it's not him, anyway. Thank the Goddess."

"Thank God," Kennedy added. "Still, is that why your mother didn't tell you? The condition?"

"No. They only couldn't mention who my birth parents were, not that I was adopted in the first place. And -- wow."

"Wow?"

Willow said, "She was 50 when she gave birth to me. I don't think that's a record even for then but it's got to be darn close."

Then there was quiet for a few minutes while Willow studied the papers. Eventually, Kennedy asked, "So, are you going to meet her?" right as her girlfriend began doing a rapid internet search.

"That depends . . . yes. She's still alive."

"Was that a yes to 'you're going to go meet her'?" Kennedy asked.

"I'm not sure. What if she doesn't like me? What if she doesn't like lesbians? Or witches? Or redheads?"

"Then to hell with her," Kennedy said simply, getting up and giving Willow a quick squeeze.

"You always make it sound so easy."

"It usually is. And when it's not? That's what you've got me for."

Another period of silence while Willow studied the screen. Finally, she sighed, stood up, and said, "Let's go."

X X X X X

Standing outside a beautiful home in Dunn's River, Connecticut, Willow said aloud, "Last chance to change my mind. Last chance just to pretend I never learned any of this."

"Too late," Kennedy said, and rang the bell. When Willow glared at her, she said, "Well, you weren't going to do it anytime soon."

There was a muffled conversation inside the house, and then the door swung open.

The moment of truth was here.

X X X X X

And what had that conversation been? A familiar exchange between two old friends.

"You want me to get that?"

"If you don't mind."

X X X X X

So, who's on the other side of that door? Does Willow know? Does Kennedy know? Does Kennedy care? And are these 'old friends' people Willow wants to know? And what show does this story cross over with? These questions and many others will be answered in the next chapter of this fic!


	2. I heard that!

Yes, the show was _Soap_, which was created by Susan Harris. As was _Benson_, for that matter.

I'm going by the theory that if the actor was deceased at the time of the fic (Summer 2003), the character was. Which, for Soap, means that Burt and Mary Campbell (and the Major) won't be appearing, but pretty much everyone else is fair game, though they won't all be showing up right away.

The reason for "Senator?" Because that, apparently, is the direction Benson would have taken if there had been another season. Most of the regulars except for Benson and Kraus would have fallen by the wayside.

"Carlos Valdez" apparently was El Puerco's real name.

X X X X X

It was like the punchline of an old joke:

"I don't know who he is, but the Pope's his driver."

In this case, it was, "I don't know who she is, but she's got an ex-senator answering her doorbell for her."

"Are you Senator Dubois?" Willow asked.

"I am," the man said. "Who are you?"

"Is this where Jessica Tate lives?"

"Depends who's asking. You a bill collector, an ex-boyfriend or husband, or someone looking to cause her any kind of trouble?"

"Do I look like an ex-boyfriend?" Willow asked politely.

"Around these people?" he asked. "I wouldn't be the least bit surprised."

"Well, no. I'm not a bill collector, an ex-boyfriend, and I'm not trying to cause trouble. But--"

"You?" the senator abruptly asked Kennedy.

"No."

Turning behind him, he said, "I believe this is for you."

A woman behind the senator popped her head out, and said cheerily, "Hello!" Her hair was bright red mixed with gray. "And who might you be?"

The senator walked away and said, "I'll go see how dinner's coming along."

"I'm Willow Rosenberg," Willow said. "This is my girlfriend, Kennedy."

Mrs. Tate said, "And by girlfriend do you mean friend who is a girl?"

"No," Kennedy said.

"I see . . ."

"Is this a problem?"

"Problem?" Mrs. Tate said. "Don't be silly. We've had homosexuals in this family since the 1970s. Actually, probably since the 1950s since that's when my nephew Jodie was born, and don't they say that it's something you're born as anyway? But we didn't really realize it until the '70s. And anyway we all love Jodie very much and if that's not going to bother us then certainly two random strangers showing up at my door aren't going to bother us."

"I can see the resemblance," Kennedy murmured.

Willow shot her a look, and then said, "That's good to know."

"A resemblance?" Mrs. Tate asked. "A resemblance to what?"

Taking a deep breath, Willow said, "Actually, that's what I came here to talk to you about."

"That I have a resemblance to something? That's an odd reason to visit someone."

"Actually --"

"I mean, we all resemble someone or something, right? If we didn't then we'd all have to look really, really different from everyone else, and I'd have -- oh, I don't know, tentacles or something. I don't think I'd look very good with tentacles, do you?"

Willow and Kennedy were spared from having to answer when the senator came back into the room. "She says dinner's about two minutes away. Which means massive quantities of antacid are half an hour away."

A German-accented voice came from the other room, "I heard that!"

The senator responded, equally loudly, "I know you did!"

"Oh, really, Benson," Mrs. Tate said. "You shouldn't be so mean to her. I think it's sweet that she wanted to cook tonight."

"I think it means she's finally snapped and wants to kill us all," was the senator's answer.

Mrs. Tate chucked him playfully on the arm and walked over to the impressive wooden staircase. "Corinne! Timmy! Dinner!"

A young man maybe a few years older than Willow came down the stairs. "I've told you, grandma," he said, "It's T. T." He noticed Willow and Kennedy and didn't seem particularly impressed.

"No, it's dinner," Mrs. Tate said. "Tea comes earlier in the afternoon." T rolled his eyes.

An attractive dark-haired woman – in her late 40s, maybe – came downstairs and said, "He means he wants you to call him T, Ma. Apparently his father's name isn't good enough for him anymore." Seeing Willow and Kennedy, she said a bit sheepishly, "Sorry about that. I didn't realize we had guests."

"Oh. T," Mrs. Tate said deliberately, "Corinne, these are – you know, I don't think I know your names."

"I'm Willow Rosenberg."

"I'm Kennedy."

"Just one name, dear?" Mrs. Tate asked.

"My first name," Kennedy said after a pointed glare from Willow, "Is Jacqueline. But no one ever uses it twice."

"Jacqueline Kennedy?" T asked, laughing. "Man, your parents must have hated you."

"That's once," Kennedy said, "_Timmy_."

"Anyway," Mrs. Tate said, "We were just about to sit down to dinner. Would you like to join us?"

"They seem like nice people," Senator Dubois said. "Why do you want to do that to them?"

"That's okay, Mrs. Tate –" Willow said.

"Please, dear. Call me Jessica. And you're our guests! I wouldn't hear of it."

Willow sighed. "Okay, but, um, there's something I want to tell you and I don't know if you're going to want everyone around."

T showed no signs of wanting to leave, but Corinne grabbed his arm and said, "Come on. We can go sit down."

"You never let me hear anything interesting around here," T complained, but followed his mother out of the room.

"Senator?" Kennedy asked.

"Oh, Benson's my best friend. Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of him."

"And remember," the senator said, "You promised me when I let you in that you weren't here to cause her trouble. I'm here to make sure you live up to your word." Protective, menacing, not exactly hostile, but all told only a step down from Giles when it came to intimidating. Senator Dubois didn't look particularly imposing at this point, but Kennedy was sure that if she and Willow actually did do anything to cause Mrs. Tate any grief that he would do his level best to make sure they paid, somehow. And as an ex-US Senator, he could probably pull it off.

"Okay. Um. This is hard."

Kennedy said, "You can do it, honey."

Another deep breath and then Willow said, "Do you remember a man named Carlos Valdez?"

Mrs. Tate visibly thought for a second. "Carlos, Carlos . . . Oh! Do you mean El Puerco?"

"That's who we mean," Kennedy said. They'd studied what they could find on Willow's birth parents on the ride up. There was a lot of stuff about Jessica Tate and her family; they apparently led fairly eventful lives. Carlos Valdez, the birth father, had been a good deal more mysterious, but they'd eventually tracked down that he was a failed Central American revolutionary who'd gone under the nickname "El Puerco."

The dictator who'd died recently had ruled the country El Puerco had been trying to take over, so at least Willow could understand why she'd been given up for adoption across the country, just in case the man had tried to kill her for being her father's daughter.

Mrs. Tate said. "What about him?"

"Well," Willow said, "As it turns out, I'm his daughter . . . and yours."

"Say what?" The senator said. Mrs. Tate said nothing.

"We have papers –"

"Let me see those," the senator said, snatching them out of Willow's hands and reading them over. "Uh-huh . . . uh-huh . . . yeah." He handed them back. "She's legit."

"Willow?" Mrs. Tate said. "My little girl?"

"That's me," Willow said, before Mrs. Tate smothered her in a hug.

"My little girl!" she said again. "You know what this means, Benson?"

"Yeah. It means they're definitely staying for dinner." He left the room at the far end.

"Come on," Mrs. Tate said. "I can't wait to introduce you to everyone. The right way. As my long-lost daughter who's finally come home." Kennedy cleared her throat. "Oh. And her girlfriend too, of course. Now, come along."

They went.

X X X X X

Now that Jessica knows about her daughter and her girlfriend, will she be happy? Will Willow be happy? Or is Willow concealing some dark secret? How will the rest of the Tates react? And what about the Dallases? Or the Campbells? And who's this cook that Benson seems to dislike so much? These questions and many others will be answered in the next chapter of this fic! 


	3. Vampires?

As far as cliffhangers from the end of _Soap _go: Obviously, Jessica survived. For that matter, so did Burt, but as he's passed away I doubt I'll be getting into details. As for Chester, Danny, and Chester's new wife, everyone emerged intact but Chester's second marriage did not.

Also: the "Jessica's Ghost" episode was a figment of Benson's imagination.

And re: Jodie Dallas. Yes, he was half a dozen different gay stereotypes, though well kept from ever being _just _a stereotype, and slept with more women than men in the course of the series, but that's the backstory I have to deal with.

X X X X X

Walking into the dining room, Willow and Kennedy saw Corinne, T and Senator Dubois all seated, in addition to two people they hadn't seen before. The first was a severe-looking woman bringing in a platter with a roast ham -- not the best choice for Jewish pagan semi-vegetarian Willow, of course, though Kennedy thought it looked delicious.

The other was a distinguished-looking man who seemed to be around 70; he was sitting at the head of the table.

"That ham looks delicious," the man said. "Thank you, Gretchen."

"Looks can be deceiving," Senator Dubois muttered.

"Everyone?" Mrs. Tate said. "We're going to be having some guests for dinner. Chester -- that's my ex-husband, Chester, there," pointing to the distinguished man, "he lives in the poolhouse and day trades for a living. You already know Corinne and Tim -- I mean, T -- and Benson, of course. And that's Gretchen Kraus with the ham. She's Benson's assistant."

"Hello," she said, smiling slightly, with a distinct German accent. Willow and Kennedy both nodded in acknowledgment, as Mrs. Tate was still talking.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Willow Rosenberg and Kennedy."

"Just Kennedy?" Chester asked.

"Apparently she's like Cher or Madonna. Or that French poodle we had when I was growing up," Mrs. Tate said. "Anyway, Willow came by with some wonderful news."

"What is it, Ma?" Corinne asked.

Mrs. Tate gestured for Willow and Kennedy to sit in two of the open chairs, saying to Willow, "Do you want to tell them, dear, or should I?"

"You know them better than I do," Willow said. "Who do you think would be better?"

"Well, it's going to be something of a surprise either way, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Willow said.

When after a few more seconds neither Willow nor Mrs. Tate had spoken, Chester said, "Well? Is one of you going to get around to it or are we just supposed to guess?"

"Yeah, what is it, grandma?" T asked.

Jessica said, "Remember back when I got back from Central America and it turned out I was pregnant?"

"Yes --" Chester said, and then realization dawned on his face. "You don't mean --"

"I do. Corinne, meet your baby sister. T, meet your aunt. Chester -- well, she's not related to you but I hope you like her anyway. You too, Gretchen."

Willow waved. T looked horrified, though Kennedy couldn't tell by what, but he waved back anyway. Corinne blinked. Chester said, "Are you sure, Jess?"

"Benson looked over the papers," Mrs. Tate said. "And she's my daughter by El Puerco."

"Well, if _Benson _looked over the papers --" Chester said.

"I'm not the Tate butler, _Chester_," Senator Dubois said with obvious irritation in his voice. "I haven't been that for nearly 25 years. I'm a former senator of the United States, a former Lieutenant Governor, and I've probably looked over more legal documents than you have. But even if I were still the Tate butler, I still think I'd be better at picking out a fake than you. Hell, _Kraus _would be better at it than you would."

"I'm not sure whether I've just been complimented or insulted," Kraus said. "I'll go get the potatoes. Willow, nice to meet you. I'm sure you'll fit in around here just fine."

"Thank you," Willow said. In the meantime, Mrs. Tate, Senator Dubois and Chester were still bickering, while T was just sitting there with a stunned look on his face, mumbling something Kennedy couldn't quite catch in the tumult.

Corinne, meanwhile, leaned across the table and shook Willow's hand. "Nice to meet you, Willow. Welcome to the family." They both looked over to the argument. "It's not like this all the time, I promise."

"Yes," Kraus said, returning to the room with what looked like a platter of herbed potatoes. "Sometimes it gets really bad."

_This _wasn't bad?

On top of it, what T was muttering was, "My aunt's older than I am. I was _checking out_ my aunt."

Well, that did explain the horrified look.

X X X X X

When the fight ended, with Senator Dubois triumphant, Mrs. Tate apologetic, and Chester taking his meal and storming back to the poolhouse, it was somehow settled that Willow and Kennedy would spend the night. T managed to work his way back into polite conversation, and Corinne and Gretchen Kraus, who joined them at the table once she was done serving, were very nice, asking Willow and Kennedy questions about who they were, though the time constraints stopped them from giving anything but the shallowest answers.

After the dinner was over, the Senator and Gretchen Kraus left to go home -- "We have Benson and Gretchen over for dinner a couple of times a week," Mrs. Tate said; T headed out to go to a local club where he was in a band, and Corinne went upstairs.

"And now we can spend some time getting to know each other, dear," Mrs. Tate said. "I assume you'll want the same room?"

"Is that a problem?" Willow asked.

"Of course not," Mrs. Tate said. "Don't give it a second thought."

"We won't," Kennedy said. "Thank you, Mrs. Tate."

"Please, call me Jessica. After we're all, we're practically family. Well, sort of."

"As much as the legal system of this country will allow at this point, anyway," Kennedy said.

"Oh, I know," Mrs. Tate -- Jessica -- responded. "You should have seen what my nephew Jodie went through to try to get married to his boyfriend in the 1970s. He was actually going to have a sex-change operation just so they could be seen in public together! These days at least he wouldn't feel like he had to do that, unless of course he wanted to, and I don't think he ever really did. Though it's been a while since I've talked to him about that, and why would I? After all, it doesn't define him or anything, it's just a part of him, just like it's a part of the both of you but I assume not the whole thing. Am I right?"

"You are most definitely 100% percent right," Willow said. "And boy am I glad to hear that you think that way."

"We've been through too much in this family to think otherwise," Jessica said. "Now, let me go make sure the bedroom's set up for you and I'll be right back down and we can talk."

Kennedy and Willow say down on the couch as Jessica went upstairs. "I should probably go patrol while we're here," Kennedy said. "A quick look around." Connecticut wasn't known as a hotbed

"And it'll give me and my, um, mother time to get to know each other."

"You sorry you came?" Kennedy noticed the hesitation in Willow's voice.

"No!" Willow said. "Not at all! It's just that, well --"

"They're insane?" Willow nodded her head vigorously. Kennedy leaned forward until their heads were almost touching and said, "Honey, we're all crazy in some way. And most of them at least seem nice." Kennedy gave her a quick kiss. "Though I'm not so sure about Chester."

"He was just trying to be protective," Willow said. "Which is kind of weird considering they haven't been married in twenty years or so but kind of sweet anyway. I think I'm going to lean towards sweet until he proves otherwise. And no, if he insults me, you can't hit him, not even once. He's an ordinary human. Got it?"

"Got it," Kennedy said. She knew the legendary resolve face when she saw it.

"Now, go. Get those vampires."

"Aye-aye," Kennedy said, mock-saluting before she left the house.

X X X X X

Had she been listening inside, she would have heard the following exchange:

"Vampires?"

"Eep!"

X X X X X

Now that Jessica's heard the word vampires, is it too late for Willow to pretend she was talking about baseball? Will Kennedy run into someone when she's patrolling? If it's a vampire, will she run into it again? What if it's Chester? And will we ever run into any other members of the family? These questions and many others will be answered in the next episode of this fic!


	4. Yeah, I said vampires

To note: T and Scott Campbell were also both created by Susan Harris, though these particular iterations are mine.

X X X X X

Despite the situation, Jessica Tate laughed. "Now I know you're my daughter."

"Because of vampires?"

"No, silly. Because of the eep."

"The eep?" Willow asked.

"Yes. I've been eeping when I was surprised since I was a small child. I've done it so much people thought I was a robin. They'd look around and say, "Where's the robin?" And then they'd see it was me and say, "Oh. It's just Jessica being surprised again." So, you see, eeping runs in the family."

"Are you afraid of frogs?" Willow asked.

"No. Except on the dinner plate. Disgusting." She shuddered." They make you think they're chicken legs, but they're really not." After a second, she said, "So I heard you say something about vampires?"

"No! Vampires? Why would I have said vampires? Everyone knows vampires don't exist! No, I said umpires!" Willow said

"I see . . . so you just told your girlfriend to go kill some umpires?"

"Um – yes?"

"Hate baseball that much, do you?" Jessica asked.

"Yes. Baseball! Horrible sport! Icky!"

Jessica said, slightly sternly, "Willow . . ."

"Yeah. I said vampires." Willow looked at her birth mother nervously.

"I thought so, I mean, I may be old, but my hearing's still good." She moved over and sat next to Willow on the couch. "I was going to ask you about your life but I think maybe I need to start with this."

Willow opened her mouth and closed it again. She hadn't anticipated this, not in her wildest imaginings. When they knocked on the front door of the Tate mansion she hadn't even been sure that the people behind the door would even want to see her; despite that she hadn't been given up entirely voluntarily that still didn't mean they hadn't moved on. But they hadn't, or at least Jessica hadn't, and Willow didn't want to give that up so soon by mentioning what she and Kennedy did for a living.

"If you're worried that I won't believe you, dear, you can relax," Jessica said. "After all, we fought the devil in this very house."

Okay, that hadn't been anything close to what Willow was expecting to hear. "What?" she said. Never mind that they weren't even sure that the actual devil, as in Satan himself, even existed, but that her birth mother and her family had fought him?

"Oh, yes," Jessica said. "Timmy – I know he wants to be called T now but he's always be Timmy to me – Timmy's father was a priest who left the priesthood to marry Corinne, and then Corinne got pregnant and the pregnancy only lasted a couple of months and then Timmy was born and he was so beautiful but it turned out that somehow Satan was possessing him. First he just started moving things around the room, trapping Benson under a crib, and so on, but then he started doing a lot more until finally Tim – Corinne's husband – came home and they decided to try to exorcise him. Me and Tim and Corinne and Jodie and Benson tried, but something didn't work and the devil threw Tim out the window! But he landed on some bushes so he was fine. And then Satan told us all we needed to do to make him stop was to admit that he was the one in control and then he'd stop torturing us and maybe even give us things. And we told him no, that he would never get my family, we would never accept him, no matter what he did. And then he left and Timmy was normal again. So you see dear, after dealing with the devil himself, vampires really aren't that much of a stretch."

Willow's head was reeling during and after Jessica's story. Was it possible? There were spells she could cast to find out, but her admittedly rusty aura reading skills hadn't noticed there was anything particularly evil about this place, at least, no more so than any other house. The only way to really find out was to check Timmy himself.

As for whether it could be Satan – again, no concrete evidence that he actually existed, but there were certainly enough major powers that could have done something like this who would have been perfectly willing to cash in on the legend.

The level of babble Jessica had thrown out, though – definitely related. They were definitely related.

"Okay," Willow said. "I'll tell you the truth." Well, what of it I can fit into five minutes, anyway. "But first tell me something. You say vampires aren't that much of a stretch. Well, what do you feel about witches . . .?"

X X X X X

For the dead, Dunn's River was kind of dead. Demons, she found, but not one of them doing anything more harmful to the public good than getting loudly and publicly drunk, and if Slayers started doing anything about that they'd never do anything else.

If she started drifting closer to New York City, she'd probably find something – Dunn's River was one of those places that was yet wasn't a suburb of the place – but that would take her too far out of range, which Kennedy wasn't going to do at this point unless she ran across a literal screaming emergency.

The first cemetery she'd run across on her patrol had been one where the most recent date of death was sometime in the late 19th century. She'd given it the once-over anyway just in case anyone was pulling a Spike and making themselves at home in a crypt, but no dice. The crypts hadn't been disturbed in decades except by mice and dust.

She was headed back when she saw another one – and this one had evidence of recent use, and recently dug graves, for that matter. Which still didn't necessarily mean vamps, but it was still worth a check.

Twenty minutes later, she was about to give up when she heard faint sounds of a struggle somewhere in the distance – behind a small stand of trees. She pulled put her stake and ran towards it, stopping just before she got there and peering around a tree to see what was going on.

Vampires. Finally. They were attacking a guy who looked like he was maybe Willow's age –

Or trying to, anyway. They couldn't lay a hand on him, which was difficult to believe for any ordinary guy unless the vamps were total rookies and the guy was Captain America, which this dude definitely wasn't. It was just like they kept -- missing him, somehow.

"You wouldn't like me even if you caught me," he said. "I don't think I'd taste very good."

"We'll be the judge of that!" One of the vampires said.

Okay, enough was enough. The guy was lucky, or talented, or something, but Kennedy couldn't let them actually catch him, which they would eventually.

When one of the vampires got close, she jumped out and staked it in one motion.

One of the other two saw what Kennedy had done and leapt to attack; it wasn't quite a rookie, but it wasn't smart enough to think "Slayer!" either. It was dust in about thirty seconds.

That left the one that was biting the guy on the neck.

Shit!

Kennedy moved forward, but before she could reach them the vamp staggered back, tried to spit out the blood, and said, "What--?"

"I told you you wouldn't like me," the guy said as the vampire fell to the ground, exploding into dust before it got there. Then he turned to Kennedy and said, "Nice job."

"Thanks," Kennedy said confusedly. "You too. You part-demon or something?"

"Or something," he said. "I'm Scott. Scott Campbell. Nice to meet you . . ."

"Kennedy."

They shook hands, and Scott said, "Okay, Kennedy. Want to grab a coffee and we can swap what we're doing out here?"

"Just to let you know, I'm gay," Kennedy said as they walked out of the graveyard.

"Nice to know, and if I were planning on hitting on you I'd be disappointed," he said. "I have a girlfriend. This is just the first time I've ever seen anyone out here but me and the vampires, so I was just wondering who you were."

"Likewise. Let's go get that coffee."

X X X X X

Since Jessica believes in Satan, will she believe in vampires? How about witches? Will Willow want her to believe in them? Now that Kennedy's met Scott Campbell, will she learn the source of his weird abilities and how his blood poisons vampires? If it's the coffee, shouldn't they get tea instead? These questions and many others will be answered in the next chapter of this fic! 


	5. Hey Scott! Who's the babe?

Note: Scott Campbell floated and seemed smarter than normal babies. The rest of his abilities, I made up; someone let me know if I'm misremembering anything.

X X X X X

Willow didn't quite give Jessica the full "The world is older than we know" speech, but she did explain about vampires, demons, and werewolves, and Slayers and that magic was real.

"You can do magic?" she asked.

"Yes," Willow said.

"If I give you a hat could you pull a rabbit out of it? Oh, but I'd better make sure it's not one of my good hats, because you know what rabbits do when they're scared and I don't think I'd want to wear my hat after that."

Actually, she probably could, but she didn't want to give Jessica the wrong idea. So she simply picked up her tea cup with her mind, lifted it and took a sip, and replaced it on the saucer.

"I see . . . that's kind of like one of the things Timmy did when he was possessed."

Willow said, "You don't think --?"

"Oh, of course not. You haven't once demanded that I bow down before you and call you master."

Relieved, Willow said, "Well, the night is young."

Jessica laughed and looked up at the clock. "Not as young as all that. Shouldn't your girlfriend be back by now?"

Willow shook her head, saying, "Depends on what she finds. Sometimes she finds nothing and she's back in an hour, other times she runs across a whole lot. I won't be worried until tomorrow morning."

"I hope she's okay," Jessica said. "And when you get the chance, please tell me who decided that teenage girls who haven't even had the chance to grow up and have boyfriends should be the ones to fight these things."

"Um –"

"I mean, who do I complain to? My congressman? Honestly, the man is an idiot. I don't think I trust him with a pair of scissors. My Senator? After Benson they've really all been disappointments, anyway. But who wouldn't be after Benson? And –"

"Jessica!" Willow finally said, a bit loudly.

"Yes, dear?"

"The people who decided this died a long time ago. There's nothing you or I or anyone can do about them."

"Well, all right then," she said. "It's still not right."

"No, it isn't," Willow agreed. "But it's righter than it used to be."

Quietly, Jessica said, "It is dangerous, though?"

"Yes. But it has to be done."

"And you have to help them?" The question was somewhat pleading.

Willow sighed. "Yes. I do."

"Well, then. Try not to get yourself hurt when you do, okay? I mean, I just met you and I'd like the rest of my family to get to know you first." Jessica hugged her again.

"Getting hurt, not on my top ten list of things to do," Willow said. Then, "Well, now you know about the hard part; would you like to hear about the rest?"

"I'd love to, dear," she said. "But let me go get some tea and I'll be right back."

No sooner had Jessica left the room than Chester entered, a scornful look on his face. "Let me guess," Willow said. "You heard that."

"Enough to make me question your sanity," Chester said. "And hers, for believing you. Really, Willow -- if that is your real name. Vampires? Werewolves? Magic?"

"Yes. Vampires. Werewolves. Magic. They're all real."

"I'm sure," he said, clearly not believing her. "Well, while you were in here snowing my -- ex-wife, I was doing some research of my own. I'm quite a fair hand at a computer."

"Know how to use Google, do you?" Willow asked

"More than competently," Chester replied, Willow's sarcasm apparently being lost on him. "And what I've learned about you--"

What could he have learned? Willow asked him as much.

"Oh, plenty. Your high school blew up -- your mayor was killed -- your entire town disappeared into a mysterious 'sinkhole' -- and there are a lot of mysterious deaths around you and your friends. Warren Mears, Anya Jenkins, Jesse McNally, Tara MacLay--"

Okay. Fun was fun, but enough was also enough. She got that Chester was acting out of a misplaced and way outdated need to protect Jessica, but this was a couple of steps over the line. She could simply refute Chester -- except on Warren -- but he didn't deserve the details, not in the least.

"And this to you means what?"

"It means you could be a bad influence on Jess and I won't have it."

"You haven't been married to her in 22 years," Willow said. "Assuming I am a bad influence, it's not really any of your business anyway. But, for the record, I'm not. I'm not saying I'm perfect. But as near as I can tell, that would mean I fit right in."

They could hear Jessica clattering about. As he beat a hasty retreat, Chester said, "This isn't over, young lady."

Willow let him have the last word. It wasn't like she hadn't been planning to tell Jessica about most of it anyway.

Warren, probably not. Not yet, anyway. But if Jessica hadn't balked at magic and vampires she wasn't going to balk at most of the rest of it.

"Did I hear you talking to someone, dear?" Jessica said, as she came in carrying a tray.

Willow saw no reason to lie. "Yup. Chester came in here and put me on notice that I wasn't going to get away with it."

"Get away with what?"

"I don't know. 'My evil plan' was implied."

"Do you have an evil plan?"

"Oh, I have lots of evil plans. But none of them involve you, I promise."

Jessica smiled. "I didn't think so. I'll just have a chat with Chester tomorrow and remind him that the alternative to my pool house is the Shady Acres Retirement Home."

"I'm not sure that'll stop him," Willow said.

"It will." Then sternly, "It had better." Then she smiled again and said, "Now then. Tell me all about yourself."

X X X X X

"Alien?" Kennedy said, probably louder than she should. Fortunately, the coffee house they'd found was noisy anyway, so she probably hadn't spilled Scott's secret. "Are you sure?" She'd given him a five-minute summary of things supernatural, about half of which he'd picked up on his own, anyway.

"Yup," Scott said. "Alien. In human form at the time, but still."

Kennedy said, "There are plenty of demonic races out there which can pass for or possess humans; are you sure --?" She was open to the idea of aliens; Willow and Buffy had told her about the Queller. Still."

Scott nodded, sipping his coffee. "I'm sure. Dad told me about it when he saw me float for the first time."

"You can fly?"

"Not really. I can hover. Helpful if I want to walk on water, or avoid hot lava. Not that there's a lot of hot lava in Dunn's River. I'm also a genius, but only with certain things. Science, mostly. Plus my reaction time's off the charts and I heal quickly. No superhuman strength or agility like you, though. That would be cool."

"Plus, your blood?" They finished their coffee and began to walk back -- to Scott's place first, since it was closer.

"Looks human enough to the doctors, thank goodness," Scott said. "But it kills vampires. One of the reasons I go out there every once in a while -- I wouldn't want them attacking and hurting anyone else."

"Decent of you."

He shrugged. "Dad taught me well, once he learned what he could and stopped freaking out over it. That took him until about 1995. But he told me that's why he'd become sheriff, to do the right thing, and that if you could, pff, you should."

"Your Dad sounds like a good guy."

"He was. He died a few years ago, and my mom passed on when I was 10. Now it's just me and my uncle." They stopped in front of a house. "And here we are."

They were exchanging phone numbers -- for informational purposes, of course; it wasn't every day Scott ran into a Slayer, or Kennedy into an honest-to-God half-alien -- when the door opened. A pleasant voice said, "Scott, you said -- oh. Hi. You're not Melanie."

"No, I'm not. My name's Kennedy," she said, stuffing the number into her pocket.

"I ran into Kennedy when I was in the graveyard tonight," Scott said. "Kennedy, this is my uncle Chuck."

Kennedy turned and saw a man holding a ventriloquists' dummy. Before this could register, the dummy made a throat-clearing noise and said, "Hey, Scott! Who's the babe?"

"And this," Scott said, "Is Bob."

X X X X X

Now that Scott knows about the Slayers, will he help them? Now that Kennedy knows that Scott is part alien, will she want him to help them? Or should she be thinking about calling Mulder and Scully? Should Willow be worried about Chester's threats? Or should Chester start hoping he gets a good roommate at the retirement home?

And what about Bob?

These questions and many others will be answered in the next chapter of our fic!


	6. Can I Gesture?

I\Note: Bob's like that. I figure even if the rest of the Tates and Campbells have become more sensitive, Bob wouldn't have. So there's some offensive language in here. Be warned.

And Jodie -- again, I'm stuck with what happened on the series.

X X X X X

"Bob?" Scott was introducing her to a ventriloquists' dummy? If Chuck had just been an entertainer working on his act, Scott wouldn't have bothered. So either Bob was alive, or Chuck was delusional and thought Bob was alive.

Kennedy would play it by ear until she figured out which one was right. "Hello, Chuck. Hello, Bob. You're Scott's uncles?" Scott shot her a look she couldn't interpret.

Chuck said, "Older brother, technically. But Scott's called me Uncle Chuck—"

"And me Uncle Bob—" the dummy said.

"—his whole life," Chuck finished. The lips weren't moving, at all. That could make Chuck simply an exceptionally good ventriloquist, of course.

"One of those family things," Scott said. "Go on in."

Kennedy restrained herself from rolling her eyes; Scott was a nice guy and had good intentions. As she stepped inside, she said, "Don't do that."

"Do what?" he said, following her.

"Invite people in. I'll explain why later."

"And while we're waiting," Bob said leeringly, "he can explain who you are, babe."

"This is Kennedy," Scott said. "I met her tonight when I was walking through the graveyard."

Chuck said, "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"They can't hurt me, Uncle Chuck," Scott said. "They die when they try to bite me." He turned to Kennedy. "So, just in case you were holding off on the vampire thing, they both know."

"Not everything," Kennedy said, processing. "Don't invite people in, because that's how vampires get into the place. They can't come in unless they're invited."

Scott nodded his head. "Good to know. Thanks."

"So, babe," Bob said. "You seeing anyone?"

"I'm a lesbian," Kennedy said.

"Oh, a dyke, huh?" Bob said. "Just call me the little Dutch boy."

Kennedy smiled, though anyone looking wouldn't have said it was a pleasant smile. "You know why I was in the cemetery?"

"Goth chick or necrophiliac," Bob said.

Chuck said, "Bob—" in a tone of mild reproach.

"No. It's because I kill the things that Scott was dealing with tonight on a regular basis. I have superhuman strength." She picked up Chuck, and with him Bob, with one hand and raised him until Chuck's head was practically touching the ceiling.

"Hey!" Chuck said. "I didn't do anything!"

"I know," Kennedy said, not being sure of that at all, "I'm just proving something." To you and 'Bob,' Kennedy thought, whether he's a split personality, a demonic being, or a scam you've been running for thirty years.

"Kennedy," Scott said, "I think you've made your point."

Kennedy lowered them to the floor. "So," she said, "If I can do that, imagine what I can do to your skull if you keep up with the nasty comments." She smiled again. "Got me?"

"Loud and clear," Bob said. "No dyke comments. Got it." Chuck nodded.

Kennedy supposed that was the best she was going to get. "Anyway," she said. "You good for the moment?"

"I'm good," Scott said. "I'll remember what you said."

"If I'm still here tomorrow I'll bring my girlfriend with me and we can show you the ins and outs of vampire-hunting."

"Bet that's not all you'll shhmmf!" Bob began, and was quickly muffled by Chuck.

"Talk to you later," Kennedy said, and left.

X X X X X

Willow and Jessica talked until past 11 PM. Corinne joined them for a while, saying she wanted to learn a bit about her younger sister. Willow restricted the vampire portion of the conversation until she left, and Jessica had picked up on this. In exchange, Willow learned about other members of the family: Her older sister Eunice and her husband Dutch, her brother Bill ("He doesn't live around here any more. But he sees us on holidays!") and the Campbells and Dallases, children of Willow's deceased aunt, Mary.

"And you'll get to meet them all tomorrow!" Jessica said. "Well, most of them. Bill's not in town, of course, and Jodie's daughter Wendy is taking summer classes at Johns Hopkins, but Eunice and Dutch and Corinne and Timm -- T and Danny and Jodie and his wife --"

"Wife?' Willow asked, confused. "I thought he was gay."

"He is," Corinne said. "Her name's Maggie. When Wendy's mother kidnapped her, Maggie was the investigator Jodie hired to find her. Apparently they discovered they were 'soulmates,' or some sort of crap like that. So he decided it was all about 'the person within' and not the 'person without'; and married her, eventually, even though he's still attracted to guys."

She sounded somewhat bitter about it. Cautiously, Willow said, "And this upsets you because . . . .?"

"Because all of that soulmate stuff is just so much hooey," Corinne said. "I thought I'd found mine . . . several times. And it never lasted, never worked. Even Timmy's father turned out not to be it – and I got him to leave the priesthood. It's not like I hate Jodie or Maggie or anything. I love them. It just all seems kind of weird."

That wasn't the half of it, but it didn't seem to be bigotry of any kind, at least.

Kennedy came back as they were winding down. When Jessica invited her in, Willow winced; her girlfriend had mellowed somewhat, but she was a hardass for this particular rule.

"Thanks," she said. "And you have to stop doing that."

"Doing what, dear?" Jessica asked, closing the door.

"Inviting people in."

"But then how will they know they can come in?"

"You can stand back and give them room."

"Can I gesture?" Jessica asked.

"That's the same thing as an invitation," was Kennedy's response.

"Unless you're giving them the finger," Willow said, giggling.

Jessica said, "You know, I don't think I've ever given someone the finger. I'd be far too embarrassed. Why, I stuck my tongue out at someone once and didn't leave my room for a week!" Then she turned back to Kennedy. "And it seems very rude to just stand there and not say anything."

Shrugging, Kennedy said, "I never said you shouldn't say anything. Talk about the weather, or why they're there, or sports, or almost anything. Just don't tell them to come in."

"She's right," Willow said. "Vampires can only get into the house if they're invited in."

"I see," Jessica said. "I know! I'll invite in everyone except the vampires!"

"Do you think they're going to tell you what they are?"

Jessica seemed to think for awhile, then said, "Good point. I just don't like to be rude, you know? I mean, I wrote corrections in to both Emily Post and Miss Manners. But if you say this'll make me safer then of course I'll do what you say, because after all you are the experts. It would be like hiring someone to build a swimming pool and then telling them they were pouring the concrete wrong. Unless of course they were pouring it into your kitchen or something."

"Definitely a resemblance," Kennedy said, grinning.

"Successful hunt?" Willow asked.

"Successful enough," Kennedy answered. "I'll give you the details later." Looking at Jessica, she said, "I assume you don't want to hear the gory parts, right?"

Jessica nodded and said, "Let me show you to your room so you can talk about them in peace." She came over and hugged Willow. "I'm so glad you came and found me. I'm sure El Puerco would be proud of who you've become. I know I am."

Then she took up them upstairs and showed them where the bathroom was, and then to a bedroom. The bed was full; plenty big enough for the two of them. "And if you need anything else, tell me, okay? Goodnight."

"Goodnight," they both said as Jessica pulled the door closed.

"So, I have a gay cousin who's married to a woman, an older sister married to a reformed criminal, and a mother's ex-husband who lives in her poolhouse and thinks I'm evil incarnate. You?" Willow said, sitting down on the bed.

"I have a half-alien. And a guy who thinks his ventriloquist's dummy's alive," Kennedy said, pulling off her shirt.

Willow blinked and said, "Okay. You first."

X X X X X

What will Willow think about Scott? About Chuck? About Bob? Knowing Bob's complete inability to control himself, does anyone want to bet he'll live out the week? The night? And what will she think of the rest of the Tates, Campbells, and Dallases? These questions and many others will be answered in our next exciting episode! 


	7. Ready, Aim, Fire!

Of course the Tate's current butler smarts off; it's a family tradition! (I wouldn't be surprised if it were a job requirement.) O'Doull, however, is my creation.

And there's a minor reference to Diana Canova's other series in here.

X X X X X

Willow and Kennedy had talked -- and done other things, which are not going to be detailed here, even though the vague noises made T very uncomfortable after he got home from his gig -- ("Dammit," he muttered when he got to his room. "Two hot lesbians getting it on twenty feet away and I can't even be interested because one of them's my aunt.") -- until well into the night.

After they discussed Scott, Willow said, "Are you sure about the alien part?"

"That's what he said," Kennedy answered. "He was dodging the vamp attacks like they were standing still. Never saw him hover, but the bite marks were almost healed by the time I left. He wasn't kidding about healing quickly."

"Still, I think I'd like to meet him."

Kennedy said, "I was thinking that too. But I have to warn you about Chuck and Bob."

After Kennedy was done with her explanation, Willow said, "How sure are you that he was a real dummy?"

"Not at all," Kennedy said. "I remember Buffy saying something once about one that came to life?"

"That was Sid, and it was a lot more complicated than that. Sid was a demon hunter in the 1930s who was cursed by a group of demons into the form of a ventriloquists' dummy. Took him nearly 65 years to track them all down and kill them. I suppose it's not impossible that someone else did the same thing --"

"Why couldn't it be the same demons?"

"Because Sid died when the demons were all dead -- it ended his curse. Bob would have died too. Assuming he was ever alive at all."

"But you'll check him out too."

"Of course. Maybe sometime during the morning or early afternoon."

"Why then?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Willow grinned wickedly. "We're going to a party."

"And me without a thing to wear." Kennedy said lasciviously.

"And while we're on the subject --"

X X X X X

Jessica had a butler, as Willow discovered the next morning when she came downstairs. "He replaces Andrews, who replaced Jonathan -- a wizard with the frying pan, that Jonathan -- who replaced Woo, who replaced Saunders, who succeeded Benson." He'd been off the previous night, because Gretchen Kraus had wanted to do the cooking.

The man's name was O'Doull. He was more of a general "servant" than a proper butler, as he was quick to point out. "A proper butler," he said, "Answers the door, announces guests, keeps watch on the kitchen supplies, and is in charge of the other servants. I cook; I clean; I run to the grocery store; and I put up with the incessant drama. It's enough to make Jack Bauer run screaming into the night."

"Then why do you do it?" Willow asked.

O'Doull smiled. "They pay very well."

Breakfast was a mixture of strained, pleasant, and frosty, though the food itself was delicious. Chester refused to acknowledge Willow's existence and T looked like he would have rather been anywhere else. Corinne and Jessica chatted like Willow and Kennedy were old friends, though.

After the meal was cleared away, Chester announced that he was going back to the poolhouse to take a look at how the overseas markets were doing.

"Splendid," O'Doull said. "I need some kim chee anyway."

"Not those kind of markets, you nitwit," Chester said. "The kind you make money at."

"That would explain why you're living in the poolhouse."

T left, mumbling that he was going to go rehearse at a friend's house.

"Is everything okay with him?" Jessica asked when he was gone. "I mean, not that he ever inherited the chatterbox gene or anything, but he usually manages to use more than one syllable a day."

"You're asking me?" Corinne said. "I'm lucky he says good morning and goodnight. Still--"

Kennedy interrupted with, "I think I know."

"You do, dear? What is it?"

"Last night during dinner I overheard him say 'he was checking out his aunt.' He's embarrassed, that's all."

"I see," Jessica said. "Isn't that kind of thing illegal?"

"And icky," Corinne said.

"Maybe you should remind him you're adopted," Jessica said.

"Adopted?" Willow asked. "You adopted one child and had another adopted out?"

"Well, dear, you know why I did it with you. That man in charge of Malaguay was intolerable. I think he would have killed you. He tried to kill me, you know."

"I didn't," Willow said. When Kennedy looked at her, she said, "We only had a couple of hours and -- certain topics were complicated."

"Got it," Kennedy said, knowing what topics those were.

"Oh yes," Jessica said. "Set me up in front of a firing squad and everything. You know, he actually told his men, 'ready, aim, fire?' And they fired. Nearly scared me to death. Of course, that would have been only seconds before the bullets finished the job, but you know how it is, As it was, though, he was just trying to frighten me. The bullets were blanks! He wanted to make me tell him everything I could about El Puerto and his men and all of that. Well, I refused and the next time I think he was going to kill me for real -- until your father came back down to Malaguay and gave himself up to save me. Made sure I was on a plane headed back to the US. And I never heard from him again."

Jessica's voice was nearly breaking by the end of it. Both Corinne and Willow moved over to hug her. Kennedy said, "That was very brave of him."

Sniffling, Jessica said, "El Puerco was a brave man. A good man. And that man who killed him -- well, you can see why I wasn't going to give him the chance to do the same thing with you. Ever."

"Of course," Willow said. "And I wasn't being critical. It just struck me as odd." To Corinne she said, "You're adopted?"

"Yeah, but it's not gonna help T as much as Ma thinks," Corinne said. "Remember who my birth father was."

"My brother Randolph -- oh."

"So now T was checking out his first cousin once removed," Willow said, "Meaning me. A little less icky on the biological scale."

"Yeah, but the way he's reacting now," Kennedy said, "I think mentioning it at all might drive him into a coma." The way she was grinning, it seemed like she didn't necessarily think that was a bad idea.

"And we've done entirely too much of that in this family," Jessica said. "Me, Chester, Burt after those gangsters shot him --"

"Me," Willow said.

"You, dear?" Jessica asked.

"At the end of my sophomore year, a -- a gang broke into the school and attacked the library, where I and some of my friends were having a meeting of -- the historical society. Because you know me," Willow said, looking uneasily at Corinne, "I just love history. Anyway, they killed one girl, hurt me and my friend Xander, and ran off with the school librarian, Mr. Giles. They knocked a bookcase on my head and I didn't wake up for about a day but the cops found Mr. Giles at -- gang headquarters and got him out of there before they could hurt him."

"Comas, gangs, explosions -- oh yes, Corinne, their high school blew up at graduation, too. I'm just glad you lived through -- all of it -- and were able to find me." She exchanged knowing looks wit both Willow and Kennedy. Jessica might have come across like a ditz, but she was no Harmony underneath, that was for sure.

"So am I," Willow said.

"Me too," Kennedy added.

Corinne pushed her chair back and stood up. "And on that note, I need to get to work."

"What do you do?"

"I help run a record label," she said. "Small place, but we put out some good music. Started out new-wave in the '80s; now we're all over the place, as long as it's good." She gave Jessica a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be home in time for the party, Ma."

"What time is the party?" Kennedy asked.

"About 6 this evening. O'Doull's going to set up a buffet."

"I am?" O'Doull asked; he was clearing off the table.

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Couldn't you have given me a little more warning?"

Jessica paused and then said, "I didn't even know about it myself until late last night when I decided I wanted Willow to meet the rest of my family. I suppose I could have woken you up, but I don't think you would have appreciated that."

O'Doull said, "Fair enough. Any particular food you want at this shindig?"

"Whatever strikes your fancy," Jessica said.

"Chips and dip it is, then," O'Doull said, walking into the kitchen.

X X X X X

Had they been in the living room, they would have seen the following:

Chester approach Corinne and talk. Corinne roll her eyes after ten seconds and start to walk away. Chester say the word, "vampires."

Corinne stop.

Chester say, "Really. I don't trust her. And now you see why."

Corinne say, "I gotta go, Daddy. I'll talk to you at lunch."

Corinne look back at the dining room, confused and concerned.

X X X X X

Does Corinne believe Chester? Will Corinne believe Willow? Will anybody believe Willow besides Jessica, Scott, and Chuck and Bob? Considering it's Chuck and Bob, _should _anybody believe them? Considering it's Willow, what will she do to prove that she's telling the truth? These questions and many others will be answered in the next chapter of our fic!


	8. No, you can't dissect me

Note: Kennedy Willmott Andrews is my creation. And there's a gratuitous _Daria_ reference in here.

X X X X X

Had they been following Chester the entire day, they would have seen:

Chester talking to Danny. Danny getting confused, then outraged.

Chester talking to Eunice and Dutch. Eunice looking skeptical and confused, Dutch looking angry, then weepy, then angry again.

Chester trying to talk to Jodie, but not able to reach him on the set, and leaving him a message.

Chester missing Scott and Chuck (and Bob).

Chester walking up the driveway of Benson's house.

Benson looking out the window at Chester with a distinct "are you out of your damn mind?" expression on his face.

Chester walking back down the driveway of Benson's house, having not bothered touching the doorbell.

X X X X X

"Where are you going, dear?" Jessica asked.

"Well, we were staying at a place in New York City, and the rest of our clothes are there," Willow said.

"We only brought this one set of clothes," Kennedy explained. "And even with the shower we took last night they're still getting kind of rank. Sure not anything I'd want to wear for Willow's big introduction, even if it's not a formal party. Trust me, honey; I know how to deal with these things."

"You do?" Jessica seemed surprised, but not offensively so. "How – wait. Are you related to the Kennedys?"

Kennedy shook her head. "Maybe very distantly, but that's not how I know. My father's the Kennedy in Kennedy Willmott Andrews."

Jessica began to laugh. "What's so funny?" Willow asked.

"Chester applied for a job with them a long time ago and they turned him down cold." A pause, then, "Of course, his being a convicted embezzler might have had something to do with that . . ."

"Yeah," Kennedy said. "My dad makes damn sure his people know every rule and every loophole and how to manipulate them, but he also makes sure that if they step over the line and he catches the, they're dead."

"He murders them?" Jessica asked in astonishment. "Well, I suppose that's one way to keep them from breaking the rules, but isn't it kind of drastic?"

"I was being metaphorical, Jessica," Kennedy said. "Their career is dead. They're not. Unless they fling themselves out the window."

"I see . . ."

"Anyway, I grew up rich, so I know how to behave and how to dress at pretty much any kind of party you can think of. I don't think it's a whole lot of fun, which is why I'm so happy to be a Slayer. A lot harder to kill vampires when you're in a floor-length dress and high heels."

"Buffy did it once," Willow said.

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy said, "With one hand tied behind her back, in complete darkness, during an earthquake, right?"

"Well, there was an earthquake . . ."

"Of course there was."

"Buffy - that's one of your best friends, right, dear?" Jessica asked.

"Yes."

"And she fought one of the bad guys like that? I mean, that's impressive. I don't know if I could have ever done that, even if I was holding a gun."

Kennedy sighed, "No. But sometimes it does seem like she comes off like a superwoman."

'"I take it you're not the best of friends?" Jessica asked.

"Hardly," Kennedy said. "We get along like fire and gasoline. I respect her, but we grate on each other, which is one of the reasons we try to stay a continent or so apart, if possible."

"Did you think I was trying to compare the two of you?"

"No. Just an instinctive reaction. Sorry about that."

"Nothing to apologize for," Willow said. "Anyway, you know, I think we need to get going if we're going to make it back in plenty of time. See you tonight -" she realized she'd never decided what to call her birth mother. She said as much.

"Any chance I can get you to call me anything like 'mother'?" Jessica asked hopefully. Well, Sheila Rosenberg had more or less given up all claim to the title; she and Ira had provided her with a home, food, and plenty of money, but not that much else except a lingering fondness for Judaism, even if she wasn't particularly a practicing Jew and hadn't been for years.

"See you tonight, mother," Willow said.

Jessica smiled, and it was a sunny smile. "There you go. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

X X X X X

The place they were staying in New York was owned by Kennedy's family; they had a condo that was available for any member if they needed it. Something of a luxury place, and well beyond what they needed; eight rooms. But it was convenient.

They showered again and changed. "Did we bring anything appropriate?" Willow asked as they were dressing.

"This is a family gathering," Kennedy said. "Nothing formal. People'll probably come dressed in business clothes, not suits and gowns or even nice dresses. We probably want to be better than jeans and t-shirts. Something we'd wear to a job interview, or a semi-good restaurant." She looked at the outfits they'd brought with them. "Nothing here, of course," she said in a strangely altered voice. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing outfits so -" she mock-shuddered - "_unfashionable_."

"Oh, Kendy," Willow said, having caught on. "I'm sure you could pull it off."

"Gee, Willow," Kennedy said. "Surely you would not want a member of the Slayer Club to be caught wearing yesterday's clothing."

"Oh, of course not, Kendy," Willow said. The two looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

"Sandi and Quinn were lesbian lovers, you know," Kennedy said.

"Well, I can see that with Sandi," Willow said. "Not Daria and Jane?"

"Naaah. Would've made things too cliché," Kennedy said.

"So, as the head of the Fashion Club," Willow asked. "We good for tonight?"

"For meeting your birth mother's family? I think something new's in order."

"Now this is one of the ways I'm glad you're not like Buffy," Willow said. "Not that I don't find clothes shopping fun, because, you know, I do, but she can take longer to buy one pair of shoes than it took for the Invasion of Normandy. And today, I think we need to go for a surgical strike, and I really have to stop using these military metaphors."

"Yeah," Kennedy said. "I know. Why do you think I was so happy that I became a Slayer? It meant I could wear comfortable clothes 98 percent of the time, and comfort's a whole lot easier to shop for than style."

"A definite yep to that."

X X X X X

Kennedy hadn't been able to catch Scott, Chuck or Bob on the way out; they arranged to meet Scott for a late lunch after his afternoon class, and after they picked up their clothes for the party. He was going for a doctorate in astrophysics at Hudson University.

"A doctorate?" Willow asked as they sat down at an outdoor table at a small café.

"I told Kennedy I was a scientific genius," Scott said without humility in his tone, or arrogance either. "I could probably teach most of these classes. But I have to jump through the hoops to be able to prove it to the rest of the world."

"So you can contact your home planet?" Kennedy asked teasingly.

Scott said in a slightly annoyed tone, "This is my home planet. My parents were Burt and Mary Campbell, not the absentee bastard who took Dad's shape."

"No contact?" Willow asked.

"None. And I do want some, but it's about half 'wanting to contact a nonhuman species' and half 'wanting to tell off my absentee father."

"You seemed kind of cool with your abilities last night," Kennedy said.

"And I am. It's not the race I'm angry at, it's the one person. Er, being."

"Do you remember how I told you what I was, last night?"

"Yes – vampire slayer."

"Well, Willow's a witch."

Scott raised his eyebrows. "Really? Cool."

Wanting to make sure he was taking it seriously, Kennedy said, "A real witch. Like you're a real – well, half-alien – and like I'm a real vampire Slayer."

Nodding his head, Scott said, "Okay."

"You're not going to ask for proof?" Willow asked.

"The half-alien's going to demand proof?" he asked amusedly. "No. It's hardly a big stretch from vampires and vampire slayers to witches. If you want to prove it, though, go right ahead." Willow nodded and floated the salt shaker across the table – an inch above it, with her hand nearby, just in case anyone was looking, but far enough so Scott could see she wasn't holding it. "Cool," Scott said.

"I think so," Willow said. "And, um – could I ask you a favor?"

"No, you can't dissect me," Scott said.

"I wasn't!" Willow asked. "I mean, really, I wasn't, I wouldn't do that, I wouldn't even ask to do that, only if –"

Kennedy put her hand over Willow's mouth. "He's teasing, honey."

"Oh. Okay." After a second, "No, I don't want to dissect you. But I would like to read your aura. My – um, my ex-girlfriend, Tara, she was better at this than I was, but still, if I see it again, I'd know, and maybe I could make sure you meet them. If you wanted to!"

"But not kill them?"

"Not unless they have their ray guns out," Willow said solemnly.

"Then go ahead."

After a few seconds, Willow said, "I'm done. Thanks."

"You're done?" Scott said. Willow said yes. "Then why'd you ask? I was expecting it to hurt."

"Well, with your – background – I didn't know if you'd know. So I decided to ask, you know, to be polite, and to stave off any possible misunderstandings."

"Just in case I had my ray gun at the ready?" Scott asked wryly.

"Exactly!"

X X X X X

They split up, Scott to go get ready for something he had to do tonight, Willow and Kennedy to head up to the party.

"Are you ready?" Kennedy asked as they approached the Tate front door for the second time.

"As I'll ever be. Let's go meet Mother's family."

Willow rang the doorbell.


	9. That's not so tough

Note: I deliberately didn't put a "These questions and many others" at the end of the previous part, because I viewed this as being like one of Soap's one-hour episodes.

And if you buy that, I have a nice bridge in Brooklyn to sell you.

X X X X X

O'Doull opened the door a few seconds later. "Welcome to Hell," he said. "You may wish to remove your coats."

"Maybe we should keep them on, if the expression on your face means anything," Kennedy said. "You know, for a quick getaway." Saying this, they removed their coats anyway.

O'Doull smiled. "Too late now."

A crowd was at the far end of the room, having an animated discussion they couldn't quite make out. O'Doull cleared his throat.

No one turned.

He cleared his throat again, more loudly.

Senator Dubois, realizing what was going on, came over and said, quietly, "Allow me." Then, to Willow and Kennedy, he said, "Things are getting ugly out there. And for this crowd, that's a feat. Apparently Chester's been telling them all kinds of stories about you."

"Some of which are probably, you know, true, but he's not the one who should be telling them."

"He hates Willow for some reason," Kennedy said. "He's been probably spinning up a storm."

"A hurricane," the Senator said. "Now, I wouldn't believe Chester Tate if he told me the sky was blue. But the rest of them trust him, to some extent. Why, I have no idea."

"Tough room?"

"Very tough."

Willow turned towards O'Doull. "We'll take those coats -"

O'Doull smiled and said, "After I already went through the effort of hanging them up?"

The Senator turned to the squabbling crowd and cleared his throat lightly. Immediately everyone turned to look at him.

To a mildly glowering O'Doull he said, "Some of us got it, some of us don't," and walked back towards the other end of the room.

O'Doull, for his part, said, "Miss Willow Rosenberg and Miss -" Kennedy glared at him - "Kennedy."

They were met by frowns and confused looks from everyone in the room except for Benson, Kraus, and Jessica.

"Into the valley of death rode the 600," Willow muttered.

"Yeah," Kennedy whispered back. "I wonder who peed in their cornflakes."

Jessica came out of the stilled tumult, which looked ready to re-erupt any second, and said cheerfully, "Willow! Kennedy! Come on over here and meet most of the family."

Willow and Kennedy went across the room. "Everyone, this is my long-lost daughter Willow Rosenberg. You know, the one I had to give up for adoption." Willow waved. "And this is her girlfriend, Jacqueline Kennedy. But, you know, she hates it when you call her Jacqueline. Willow, Kennedy, this is my nephew Danny-" she gestured towards a dark-haired guy with a short beard, who nodded towards them - "My daughter Eunice -" a fairly short, sour-faced woman with graying hair, who also nodded - "and her husband Dutch." Dutch was a gray-haired man of about seventy who carried himself like he'd been doing physical labor his whole life.

He stepped towards them projecting something of an air of menace, saying, "You'd better not do anything to hurt this great lady," he said emotionally.

Instinctively, Kennedy moved in front of Willow, but it didn't look like Dutch intended to attack, just look threatening.

"Oh, don't be silly, Dutch," Jessica said. "Willow isn't going to hurt me, and neither is Kennedy."

"That remains to be seen," Chester muttered.

"Then it all depends," Kennedy said with mock pleasantry. "I'm certainly not going to start anything." She didn't finish the phrase; she didn't need to.

"Really?" Danny said disdainfully. "A little girl like you?"

"Don't let her size deceive you," Willow said. "She's tougher than she looks." She spoke cheerfully, as though she were discussing the weather.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Danny said.

"If you see it, it'll be because everything's gone to hell," Willow said.

"More than they have already?" Senator Dubois said.

Jessica ignored the rest of the byplay and said to Willow and Kennedy, "And of course, you already know Chester, Corinne, T, Benson, and Gretchen."

T smiled, the only genuine smile they'd seen so far except for Jessica's. Chester refused to acknowledge them at all. Corinne smiled a little ruefully; she didn't seem hostile, just confused. "Jodie and Maggie aren't here yet," Jessica said. "Nether are -" the doorbell rang.

O'Doull opened the door. "Scott Campbell," he said. "And Chuck Campbell." There was a loud, theatrical throat-clearing. O'Doull just looked at Chuck and said, in a voice dripping with contempt, "You have to be kidding," before walking off.

Willow and Kennedy, meanwhile, had been startled to hear Scott and Chuck's names. They turned and saw the two (and a half, if you counted Bob, which they still weren't sure of).

Jessica hadn't noticed their reaction and said, "Hello, boys!" to Scott, Chuck, and possibly Bob as well. "Come over here and meet Willow and Kennedy!"

A bemused look on his face, Scott walked across the room, saying, "We've already met, Aunt Jess."

With a quizzical look, Jessica said, "Well, of course we have, dear. You're my nephew."

Scott chuckled and said, "No, Aunt Jess. I mean, I've met Willow and Kennedy before."

"I see . . ."

"And we've met Kennedy," Chuck said. "So, Willow's your daughter?"

"Yes. By El Puerco."

"Another hot one," Bob said lasciviously. "You a lezzie too?"

"Lesbian, yes," Willow said.

Kennedy, meanwhile, took a step towards Chuck and Bob and said, "Remember what I said last night? It still goes." She clapped her hands together forcefully. "Get the drift?"

"Got it, got it," Bob said. Then, to Jessica, "Your daughter's no fun.

Willow, for her part, was as bemused as Scott had been. Bob wasn't like Sid; a quick check of the ambient magic confirmed that. The ones in the room who registered as magical were herself, Kennedy, Scott, T (probably from the possession from when he was a baby) and, oddly, Gretchen Kraus, who hadn't said a word since she and Kennedy had come in.

"When did you meet?" Chester asked warily.

Kennedy said, "I was out for a late night jog last night when I ran into Scott being, um, attacked by three men."

"Attacked?" Everyone said with varying degrees of concern - even Chester, Willow noticed, which gave him a half point of humanity.

"They were trying to mug me," Scott said. "They caught me last night when I was walking back through the graveyard. Kennedy heard them and jumped out of the trees and beat up two of them. I hit the third, and then they were like dust in the wind."

"I'll bet," Gretchen Kraus said, almost too quietly for anyone to hear.

"You beat up two muggers?" Dutch asked in disbelief.

"I told you she was tough," Jessica said.

"You?" Danny asked.

"I think I'm being insulted," Kennedy said.

"I know you are," Scott said. "And I have no idea why."

"Well, if you'd been home when Daddy tried to reach you -" Eunice said.

"Then what? I'd be being as rude and nasty as the rest of you to a long-lost family member?" Senator Dubois cleared his throat. "Okay. Most of the rest of you?"

"If you knew what we knew, yes," Chester said.

"Yeah. Gotta go along with the big guy on this one," Dutch said.

"Okay, now I'm confused," Chuck said.

Bob said, "You and me both. I mean, two hot, tough lesbians. What's not to love?"

"Yes," Jessica said sternly. "You all have been quite mean about Willow and Kennedy since you got here and I wish someone would tell me exactly why you all feel that way."

"Oh, really?" Eunice asked scornfully. "Mother's new 'daughter' comes in with a cock and bull story about vampires and magic and you don't know why we might find that the teensiest bit upsetting?"

"Who told you about that?" Jessica asked.

"I did," Chester said triumphantly. "I heard you talking about it last night and simply couldn't believe my ears. Then when I saw that you were buying it, Jess, I had to tell everyone else. So we could help you." His voice was syrupy and patronizing. Willow mentally deducted the half-point she'd given him for his concern over Scott.

"They what?" Senator Dubois asked. "You told them what?" he asked Willow.

Willow sighed. "I told them the truth."

The tumult started again, with everyone but O'Doull and Kraus doing their bit to add to the commotion. After maybe thirty seconds, Kraus climbed onto a chair, stuck two fingers into her mouth, and whistled as loudly as she could.

Everyone stopped. "That's just about enough out of all of you," Kraus said. "Chester here spills the beans about something he overheard and you're treating it like he got it from a burning bush, and you're acting like Mrs. Tate doesn't know what she's doing. Well, we know better, don't we, Benson?" Senator Dubois mumbled something. "Benson?" she repeated.

"Well, I don't know," he said. "On the one hand, vampires and magic does sound kind of dumb. On the other hand, this is Chester we're talking about." Chester, whose smug smirk had gotten, if anything, wider during the first half of the senator's statement, deflated like a popped balloon during the second half. "So I guess what I'm saying," the senator continued, "is that I'm going to need some proof. Quickly." The last word was sharp and cold.

Wordlessly, Kennedy replied. She went over to the sofa in the living room, bent down, picked it up over her head, and twirled it around.

"Do be careful," Jessica said. "That's an antique."

"No problem," Kennedy said, and put it back exactly where it had been.

Danny snorted. "That's not so tough." He went over to the sofa and tried to pick it up.

After about ten seconds, T said, "Hey, Danny. Don't hurt yourself."

"No," Danny said, grimacing. "I got this."

Finally, after another ten seconds of straining, he lifted it six inches off of the floor. He let out a whoop, and simultaneously lost his grip on the sofa and stumbled backwards into T. T fell, colliding with Eunice and Corinne. Corinne tripped and fell to the floor, while Eunice lurched and involuntarily flung her drink at Chester, who spun around in surprise and hit the chair Gretchen Kraus was standing on. She yelped and started to fall off.

Scott jumped forward and caught her.

In the middle of this domino sequence, the doorbell had rung.

O'Doull waited until the very end before announcing to the room, "Jodie Dallas and Maggie Chandler."

"Hi everyone," Jodie said, grinning. "So, what'd we miss?"

X X X X X

Will anyone be able to explain to Jodie and Maggie what they missed? After hearing it, will Jodie regret asking the question? Will Chester, Eunice, Danny, Dutch, and Corinne believe Willow and Kennedy now? Will Willow need to cast a spell? Or will they just ask Kennedy to help out on moving day? These questions and many others will be answered in the next chapter of this fic!


	10. I'm the normal one in this family

Note: The later "adventures" are ones I made up.

X X X X X

"I mean," Jodie continued, "Couldn't you have waited another ten seconds? You know how much I love a good pratfall."

"Oh, ha ha," Chester said. 'O'Doull, get me another drink."

O'Doull answered, "After the way you treated your last one? I think not."

Scott gently lowered Kraus to the floor. "Thank you," she said.

"You're quite welcome," Scott said, and walked over towards Jodie.

"Yeah. Now Mrs. Tate doesn't have to replace the carpet," Senator Dubois said.

"Benson," Mrs. Tate said reproachfully.

"She knows I'm kidding," the senator said. Then, sotto voce, to Willow: "I'm not kidding."

"He's kidding," Kraus said. "I think Benson would explode if he didn't insult someone at least once every ten minutes."

"Hi, Jodie," Scott said. "Hi, Maggie. Glad you cold make it."

"I had to be here," Jodie said. "But I feel like I walked in in the middle of something." T and Eunice were helping Corinne off the floor, while Dutch went over and checked on Danny, who was still bent almost double in the middle of the floor. "What's the matter, Danny? Lose a contact lens?"

"He and the sofa argued," Kennedy said. "He lost."

Jodie said, "That's my brother, alright. Seriously, what's going on? You could cut the tension in the room with a chainsaw."

"Big argument," Scott said.

"About what?" Maggie said.

Willow raised her hand. "Me."

Still smiling, Jodie said, "You must be Willow," and walked over and shook her hand. "I'm Jodie Dallas. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Willow said, shaking both their hands. "This is my girlfriend, Kennedy."

"Girlfriend?" Maggie said. "You hear that, Jodie? You're not the only gay one in the family anymore." This seemed to please her.

"About damn time," Jodie said. "So, you a mass murderer, mad scientist, international terrorist, or gym teacher?"

"Huh?" Willow said.

"'cause those are the only things I can see making you the subject of an argument. You seem nice enough to me."

"Thank you," Willow said.

"Well, maybe if you'd been in your offices when I tried to call," Chester said. "We were just trying to convince Jessica that maybe Willow might not be completely sane." Eunice, Dutch and Danny echoed this strongly, Corinne weakly. T, Scott, Benson, Kraus, and Chuck pointedly did not. Neither did Bob, but he was busy trying to look down Kennedy's shirt, so he was distracted.

"Chester, Maggie and I both work. She was trying to track down a runaway girl and I was on location for a shoot." To Willow and Kennedy, he said, "I direct TV commercials." Then, back to the room at large, "And none of this explains why Danny tried arguing with the sofa and currently looks like he's going to try out for a contortionist spot with Ringling Brothers."

"I picked up the sofa," Kennedy said. "Then he tried picking it up."

"You picked up the sofa?" Maggie asked. The tone was disbelieving, but not contemptuous.

"She did," Jessica said. "Twirled it over her head and everything."

"All in some attempt to prove that magic and vampires are real," Eunice said, sniffing.

"That's what this is about? Aunt Jess's long-lost daughter and her girlfriend believe in magic in vampires and suddenly she doesn't fit into this family?" He laughed.

"I fail to see what's so humorous about all of this," Chester said.

"You fail to see what's humorous about anything," O'Doull said as he passed by. "The buffet will be set up in about ten minutes."

Jodie said, "I'm a gay man, married to a woman, who's tried to have a sex change operation, tried to commit suicide, and for four years thought I was an old Jewish man named Julius Kassendorf, and I'm the normal one in this family. We've dealt with demonic possession, aliens, cults, revolutionaries, Bob, escaped murderers - no offense, Dutch -"

"None taken," Dutch said amiably.

"Corinne married a priest, Eunice had an affair with a senator before she met Dutch, Danny used to belong to the mob, you, Chester, killed my stepbrother -"

"That doesn't count," Chester said. "I was under the influence of a brain tumor."

"My point, Chester," Jodie continued, "Is that all of that happened in the late '70s and early '80s. I haven't even gotten to Benson's senatorial campaign, the evil twins, the mad scientists who wanted to experiment on Scott, or the quarantine that kept us all in this house for three months. But with all of that having happened to us, I don't really think vampires are that big a stretch."

Senator Dubois nodded. "Good point. Chester, you're being an idiot. Not that that should come as any surprise."

"So, magic and vampires, huh?" Maggie said. "I'm guessing if they meant card tricks there wouldn't be a problem." Kennedy, meanwhile, was getting a little tired of Bob attempting to check her out, so she grabbed the dummy out of Chuck's hands, and, while he and Bob screamed and protest, walked to the front door and threw him out, as far as she could.

Chuck ran out the front door after him, yelling, "Bob! Booobb!" Senator Dubois slammed and locked the door behind him and said, "You're welcome."

To Maggie, Willow said, "Actually, I'm fairly sure there would have been. Problems. Chester hasn't liked me since I got here. I really don't know why since that was way before he could have heard anything about magic or vampires."

"That's right," Kraus said. "You were suspicious from the beginning."

"So was Benson," Chester said.

"Yeah," the senator said. "But then I saw the adoption papers and I got less suspicious. My main motive in all of this has been making sure Mrs. Tate didn't get hurt. Far as I'm concerned, Willow and Kennedy have proven themselves."

"Me, too," Kraus said.

Jodie shrugged. "What would be the point in faking any of this?"

"Mother's money," Eunice said.

Kennedy burst out laughing. "No, really, dear," Jessica said. "I do have quite a bit of money. Otherwise I'd never be able to afford this house." A bit of steel entered her voice. "Or the expenses for putting Chester into that retirement home." Chester winced.

When she stopped laughing, Kennedy said, "It's not that. It's just that, if Willow's exploiting anyone for their money, it's me. I told you, my father's the Kennedy in Kennedy Willmott Andrews."

"Them?" Chester said.

"Them," Kennedy said. "My family's worth, conservatively, somewhere over a billion dollars. I don't think you're worth a hundredth of that -"

"12.5 million, last year, before taxes," T said. When everyone looked at him, he said, "Did you really want grandpa handling them?"

"I think you get my point, though." Kennedy said.

"We do, dear," Jessica said. "So, she's not after my money, and really, people, Jodie's right, after all we've been through, my long-lost daughter being a witch and her girlfriend being someone who kills vampires really aren't that far out of the ordinary. Are they?"

Assent from around the room, some muffled, some enthusiastic.

"What was that, Chester?" Jessica said. "I don't think I heard you."

Chester, who looked like he'd just swallowed a lemon, said, "Well, I suppose I may have . . . overreacted."

Jessica smiled. "Wonderful."

O'Doull re-entered the room. "Everyone: Dinner is served."

Everyone began filing into the dining room.

Within a minute, the room was empty of everyone but O'Doull, Jessica, and Willow. "Still glad you came?" Jessica asked.

Willow nodded. "Yes, mother. I am."

Grinning, Jessica said, "Me too. And just think."

"About what?"

"This was a slow weekend."

Laughing, mother and daughter moved out of the living room together.

There came a pounding on the door.

O'Doull instinctively moved towards it, but caught him. "You don't want to get that," Senator Dubois said. "Trust me." He steered the current Tate butler away from the door and into the dining room

The pounding continued, even though there was no one left to hear it.

X X X X X

And here ends the first episode of "Willow Tate." Other episodes may follow, but right now I'm going to concentrate on The In-Dark.

Which is why I deliberately left a lot hanging: Why Kraus registered as magical, whether Scott is going to agree to help the Slayers, how well Willow's really going to fit in with the Tates, Campbells, and Dallases, whether anyone's going to let Chuck and Bob back into the building, etc. These questions and many others . . .


End file.
